


more powerful than you could possibly imagine

by Miss M (missm)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Authority Figures, Choking, Crack, Crack Crossover, M/M, Movie Quotation(s), Punish Me Lord Vader, Trope Bingo Round 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:12:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2051403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/pseuds/Miss%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Javert has held terrible suspicions towards Lord Vader and is in need of punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	more powerful than you could possibly imagine

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Stripy for beta-reading this ridiculous piece of crack. Also "thanks" to chat for the enablement, I guess...

"Commander," the Emperor says, gesturing that he may speak. The room is silent except for Lord Vader's breaths. Javert straightens. 

"Your highness," he says, bowing. "Lord Vader." Another bow. "I have a grave confession to make."

"Speak, Commander." 

"I have committed a grave offence." Javert wets his dry lips. "Towards the Empire -- and towards you, Lord Vader." He inclines his head. "I have disgraced the uniform that I wear."

"And of what does your crime consist, Commander?" The Emperor's voice is low and silky, betraying no emotion. 

Javert keeps his posture straight, his arms on his back. "I have accused Lord Vader of a horrible thing," he says, and although the words are shameful, all he can feel is relief: soon, soon it will not be his responsibility anymore. Soon his punishment will be meted out and delivered. He is giving himself up to his lords, for them to handle as they see fit. A thrill races down his spine at the thought, and he frowns. This is not intended for his own pleasure.

The Emperor knows. It is on his command that Javert is standing here, it is on his command that he is laying out his shame before the man he has wronged -- his superior. 

"I had suspicions," he continues, all too aware of the heavy breathing to his left. "I suspected, for various reasons, that Lord Vader was related to that infamous rebel, Leia Organa. After the incident last month, which you surely remember, Lord Vader --" He bows again. "-- I wrote to the Emperor and denounced you as her father." 

The Emperor's eyes glitter sharp and cold under his hood. He says nothing. The heavy breathing has not stopped for one second. Javert takes a deep breath.

"He told me, of course, how wrong I was. And so I ask you, Lord Vader, for justice."

Lord Vader speaks for the first time. The deep metallic voice seems to drag along Javert's nerves, leaving them raw and open. "And what would you have me do, Commander?"

He licks his lips again. His heart is beating hard and fast. "Punish me, my lord."

Another breath. Two. Three. Then Lord Vader turns to the Emperor. "Is that what you wish, my master?"

For the first time, the Emperor smiles. It is a smile that suits him, cold and merciless. Javert almost can't breathe. "Go on."

Lord Vader turns to him, and Javert's throat tightens even more, and then he realises it is no longer anticipation doing it but that this is _it_ , that the stories are true -- Lord Vader can do this to him without even lifting a finger.

Then, suddenly, he can breathe again. He gasps for air, and now Lord Vader is standing right in front of him, a dark looming presence that makes Javert shiver.

"You like that," his lord says, very quietly. "It is what you desire."

"Master," Javert rasps.

He should protest. This is not what he desires. It is his punishment; it is meant to make him suffer. It should not leave him trembling, expectant, eager for more...

"Search your feelings," Lord Vader breathes, raising his hand. "You know it to be true."

Then Javert is in the air, and again he cannot breathe; his hands fly to his collar, but it is no good, he is helpless, a wretch, completely at this man's mercy, and there is no mercy, not for him.

His head is reeling, faint with lack of oxygen, his heart is throbbing furiously and futilely, and so, he realises, is his groin: in the terrible clarity that fills him as every other sense of the world disappears, he cannot deny what this is doing to him, this restraint, this humiliation, this pain -- 

\-- and then he is let go, tumbling to the ground in an undignified heap, gasping and clawing at his throat. He lies writhing on the floor for long moments; he is a mess, a wretch, a disgrace; and he is more aroused than he has ever before been in his life. 

He is also naked. His uniform is lying in a rumpled heap by the wall, lifted from him and moved there by Lord Vader's astonishing powers. 

"You have failed me for the last time, Commander," that deep relentless voice says. Javert's heart almost stops for a moment -- is he not going to be allowed to atone for his mistake after all? -- but then Lord Vader continues, "I know you will not make more mistakes. You are loyal and eager to serve."

It is very hard to bow in an appropriate manner when one is lying on one's back. Being hard makes it even harder. Javert makes a brave effort. "Thank you, my lord," he manages. 

"To prove as much," his lord continues, "your eagerness shall be put to good use. On your feet."

He obeys immediately, standing to attention, his erection jutting out obscenely in front of him. The Emperor is still sitting behind his desk. He is still smiling, all cool iciness, even when faced with this blatant example of perversion in his forces, of his commander's disgrace, his corrupt body that longs to be chastised...

Every thought inflames said corrupt body until Javert almost can't stand still. He eyes the Emperor's desk, imagines himself bending over it, servicing his superiors on every side, and he has to close his eyes for a moment, bite back a moan. How long will they make him wait?

"Commander," Lord Vader says. In his hand there is a light sabre. "The Emperor wants to see us duel."

Javert's gaze snaps back across the large desk. The Emperor's smile has changed; now there is something almost gleeful in it. His eyes are intense, and he is leaning over his desk, resting his chin on steepled fingers. 

Javert suddenly has a bad feeling about this.


End file.
